


i kept my promise (don't keep your distance)

by jorgelorenzo



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Argentina 2019, Getting Back Together, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jorgelorenzo/pseuds/jorgelorenzo
Summary: Set after Argentina 2019 and that handshake, Marc goes to find Valentino.





	i kept my promise (don't keep your distance)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zjemciciastko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjemciciastko/gifts).



> to my darling zjemciciastko, you are an inspiration and this is dedicated to our tears today. i love you!
> 
> wrote this post argentina, just a little drabble thing, I hope you all like! just fyi, this hasn't been beta'd so any spelling mistakes, please let me know. it's late, i'm tired, so there are probably a few!
> 
> this is all fiction, etc etc. the title comes from "don't cry for me argentina" by madonna (lol).

The feel of skin meeting skin is warm and Marc feels reprieved, the sense of victory washing over him once more. He winks, goes for mischievous to cover the way his heart is pounding in his chest and how all his nerves feel like they’re on fire. Valentino nods and Marc knows he’s been granted more than just forgiveness on the outside.

The press conference and duties are long, especially when Marc is so desperate to get away. He smiles brightly, says what they want to hear and lets the show continue with Valentino and Dovi. When he’s finally dismissed, finally free to run back to his motorhome and just _breathe_ for the first time that day, his brother is waiting for him with a smile on his face, but an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Are you going to see him?” Alex asks once they’ve finished discussing their respective races.

Marc doesn’t need to ask who “him” is.

“Yes,” Marc says, even if he doesn’t know whether he’ll be allowed to yet. “I think I should.”

Alex nods. “Be careful.”

Marc waits until it’s dark outside, the only real lights coming from the occasionally illuminated motorhome. He hesitates when he arrives outside of Valentino’s motorhome, now debating on whether or not this is a good idea. Uccio, or Luca, could be in there and he doesn’t much like the idea of having the day end with a undoubtedly heated confrontation with Uccio.

Thankfully, it’s Valentino who answers the door when he knocks.

“Ciao.” Valentino greets quietly.

“Are you alone?” Marc asks, equally hushed.

Valentino nods and turns, gesturing for Marc to follow him. Marc does, walking into the familiar motorhome. It’s changed slightly since the last time he’s been in it, but it’s still mostly the same and the pang of regret hits Marc hard in the stomach. They've wasted _so_ much time.

“Congratulations, again.” Valentino says, sitting down on the sofa, Marc remaining standing. He doesn’t know what he is and isn’t allowed to do yet. “You raced beautifully.”

The compliment has a lump rise in Marc’s throat.

“Thank you.” He swallows. “So did you. That overtake on Dovi-“

“You didn’t come here to talk about my race, Marc.” Valentino cuts him off. “Say what you really want to say.”

Marc takes a deep, shuddering breath, looking Valentino dead in the face. The blue eyes pierce him, stare straight into the depths of his soul. It’s a feeling he’s missed.

“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks a little as he says it, and Marc hates himself for it. “For last year, for not talking to you in private, for fucking everything up between us. It was an accident; I didn’t ever want any of this to happen.”

He breaks the gaze between them, turning to face the window. The curtains are drawn, but Marc can still make out some stars glinting in the dark of the night.

“And I wanted to say thank you for today.” Marc says. “You didn’t have to do that, but I really appreciate it.”

There’s silence for a long moment, and as Marc turns to see if Valentino has even heard him, he finds the Italian right there in his space. He towers over Marc, his expression one that Marc hasn’t seen in a long time, at least not directed at him. Valentino’s arms come up to wrap around him and Marc can’t help himself; he falls into the other man, pressing his face into Valentino’s shoulder and winding his arms tight around his narrow waist.

“God, I fucking hate you sometimes.” Valentino says, the words providing a sting that is oddly juxtaposed with the gentle hands smoothing up and down Marc’s spine. “You can be so infuriating, just winning every single race and you don’t even try.”

There’s a hint of nostalgia that tangles itself in those words, the longing for a time when Valentino could do exactly the same thing. A time when Marc had watched him in absolute awe; he wonders if Valentino knows that he still does.

“But then you come here, and you look at me like that, like _I’m_ the one to beat.” Valentino lets out a little laugh. “Sometimes, I wonder if one day I’m going to wake up and you’re going to have just been a dream I made up inside my head.”

Marc pulls his head back slightly, craning his neck so that he can look Valentino in the face. They just look at one another for a few moments, before Marc leans up and bumps his nose against Valentino’s own, seeking a permission to take this further that Valentino grants by nuzzling back. The first meeting of their lips in over a year has goosebumps erupting over Marc’s body, the hairs on the back of his neck standing one end.

They kiss languidly, Valentino bringing a hand up to tangle in the back of Marc’s thicket of dark hair and titling Marc’s head so that he can take control of the kiss, licking into the Spaniard’s mouth and biting down on his lower lip. Marc pushes his hips forward, rutting up against Valentino’s leg as he desperately seeks the friction his body craves. He can feel that the Italian is not unaffected either, groaning into Marc’s mouth as their hips meet again. They continue until Marc has to pull back to breathe, gulping in deep lungfuls of air as he tries to steady himself.  

“Take me to bed.” Marc tells him, losing himself in pools of azure. “Please, Vale.”

Valentino takes him apart slowly, opening him up as though they don’t have early morning flights to catch or people who will come looking for them if they oversleep, going until Marc is writhing and begging on the bed underneath him. Marc holds on tightly to Valentino as the Italian fucks him, nails undoubtedly cutting into the skin of the other man’s shoulder, but he doesn’t complain and Marc is grateful; he never wants to let go again. They kiss until they can’t, panting into each other’s mouths, Marc feeling too close to the edge far too soon for his liking.

It’s been too long since they last did this for Marc to have any semblance of control left.

He chokes out a sob as he comes undone, blinking back the tears as he hides his face in Valentino’s neck. The Italian follows him over the edge, biting down on Marc’s shoulder, marking him. Normally they avoid lasting marks, at least in places people can see, but Marc knows that he’ll wear the now reddening bruise on his skin like a badge of honour.

They lay there, breathing heavily, until Valentino sits up. Marc turns instantly, feeling fear trickle into his veins and the sweat covering him turn cold.

“Calm down,” Valentino says, smiling softly down at him. “I’m going to get stuff to clean up.”

“Oh.”

Marc lays back down on the bed, feeling stupid. Nevertheless, once Valentino is done wiping away any remnants of what they’ve just done, Marc wraps an arm around his waist and holds on just in case. He moves himself right into Valentino’s space until he’s tucked underneath his chin, the Italian stroking his hair gently.

“Do you have to leave early too?” Valentino asks. Marc nods. “I’ll wake you up before Uccio comes.”

Marc is grateful; he can’t see any way in which Uccio finding him here will end well.

They lay in comfortable silence, Marc occasionally drifting in between sleep and waking as Valentino lightly massages his scalp with long fingers.

“I’ve missed you.” Marc says very quietly. “So much.”

He feels rather than hears Valentino swallow.

“I’ve missed you too.”

It feels easier like this, to confess these secrets in the dead of night when they don’t have to look at one another. Marc isn’t sure he’d have the nerve to say any of the things he’s been feeling if he had to look Valentino in the face.

“We can’t have Sepang or Argentina happen again.” Valentino continues, both a warning and a promise. “This is the last time.”

_This is the last time I’m going to forgive you,_ is what Marc knows he really means.

“Okay.”

They don’t say anything else for a few minutes, Marc trying not to fall asleep. He wants to drink in this moment, savour it for everything it is. He didn’t do that in Catalunya, he was greedy, selfish, and desperate to have Valentino again. He can barely remember a thing from that night. He supposes it doesn’t really matter now anyway, they still managed to fuck it up again.

“I love you.” Marc says the words into Valentino’s skin, voice muffled so much that he doesn’t know if the Italian hears it. A part of him hopes that he doesn’t, not entirely certain of what will follow.

He feels Valentino press a kiss into his hair.

“I love you, too.”

The words have a little thrill run through him, but Marc is so tired now that his eyes are beginning to hurt with the effort of staying open. He pushes his face into Valentino’s skin, breathes in the familiar scent he finds there and finally, for the first time since last season, feels entirely comfortable.

“Night night, Vale.” He slurs, starting to drift off already.

“Buonanotte, bambino.” Valentino whispers drowsily. “Sleep well.”

Marc doesn’t know what the future holds, whether maybe it will all blow up in flames like last time, or maybe it will be different, maybe because it _is_ different this time. He feels an overwhelming positivity about his and Valentino’s relationship that he hasn’t felt since 2013, since before Argentina, Sepang and every other shitty race they’ve had together.

_This will be the last time because this time there won’t be any mistakes. This will be it, forever_.

The thought alone is reassuring enough to have him fall into the best night’s sleep he’s had in 12 months, every worry abated with the feel of Valentino’s arms wrapped around him, comforting and sure.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> love jazz x


End file.
